Small Things in a Time of Crisis

Internet communication and media entertainment and information are helpful and convenient right now, but do be careful in how you think of yourself in the realm of all you see. We can’t all be COVID-19 media famous! We can’t all be volunteers in our communities, or first responders, or have shelter-in-place exempted essential jobs. But you are so very valuable and whatever you are called to do in this moment – whatever is in front of you right now – is important. Even the small things matter. Especially the small things matter.

My husband and I have three brilliant, amazing young adult children with special needs, still home. Two are on the autism spectrum and one has autoimmune disorders and is immune system compromised so we are being careful. I help out friends when I can but my time is primarily committed to keeping our family moving forward and de-stressed as well as maintaining the household. We are not perfectly organized, not frenetically sterilized, and definitely not ready for YouTube! Our house is a bit small for five people and four pets, and we live in every corner of it. We are a single-income family and my husband’s hours have been cut so we are also working to pinch those pennies extra hard, but he is at least still employed and I am thankful for that. It is a crazy time and keeping everything running relatively smoothly with moderate peace in our home is more than a full time job. This is our life right now. Can you relate?

I laugh when the news airs segments about what to do with all the alleged extra down time! How to self-improve, new books to read, what media to watch, how to get in shape, and so on. I love my family so much, but they are time-consuming. Anxiety can be a profound issue with our beautiful early-20s children and sometimes my most important tasks of the day involve giving loving care, compassionate comfort, laughter and distractions, reassurances, and especially prayer. All these activities are precious but also intangible – no matter the hours or energy I expend, most of what I do leaves no lasting mark that will breathe beyond me on the world stage. Yet my job is so very important and valuable in the moment it needs to be done.

So here’s the thing – I am never going to be famous for my accomplishments during this time. You probably won’t either. Most of us won’t. History books will not reflect my name or my non-income job as a mom, home administrator, home lay therapist, and caretaker and say, “Wow! Look what this person did during the 2020 corona crisis!” When I see people doing amazing things on the news, I need to be at peace with the fact that I am not one of those people. But the person I am right now is the person God is calling me to be right now, doing my best to be patient and loving with what is before me right now (some days are pretty darn great and others have some epic fails!), and staying as faithful and committed as I can be – right now, in this moment, and each day as we travel this wild and unpredictable timeline in world history.

Mother Teresa said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” A slice of of wisdom that is both an observation and a challenge. Let’s meet that challenge.

When Good Leftovers Go Bad: A Study in Mold and Sanity

Assessing the condition of my refrigerator is a good way for me to determine exactly how busy/blue/tired/energetic/perky/efficient/sane/whatever I have been recently. Like many moms, I get busy and ignore the need for self-assessment so the ability to discern my own emotional state merely by opening the refrigerator is rather convenient. (And I don’t think I’m alone in this – can I hear an “AMEN”?)  If the interior is reasonably clean and the food is relatively fresh, I’m pretty optimistic about the day and can cheerfully and efficiently set aside those pesky concerns about progeny or spouses inadvertently poisoning themselves due to the tendency to grab and snorf edibles before actually observing or smelling said edibles.

However, I think it’s safe to say we can throw any little false efficiency scenarios right into our handy dandy 50 gallon trash today, because I just checked my fridge and discovered that certain no-longer-edibles have taken on entirely new states of being and are now capable of sentience. I paused with the fridge door open when I heard frightening conversational noises, and soon realized that we really need to move the TV out of the kitchen area because my leftovers seem to have become laden with B western dialogue as well as bacteria –

“Howdy, Broc.”

“How’s it goin’, Squashed?”

“Not bad. Gotta move a herd of pasta over to the south 40. Wanna lend a hand? Might have a few stray meatballs to round up, too – they’ve rolled out and gotten fuzzier than a cowpie in spring.”

“Happy to help, Broc, but how ‘bout that popped Tupperware lid over by old man Casserole’s place? We oughta burp that before them bad apples break through and infect the herd.”

“Time to get on it, Squashed! Saddle up that there rotten potato and let’s ride out.”

And then I heard – Star Trek? Seriously?

“Captain!  There’s a mold cluster here that I’ve never seen before!”           

“On screen, Mr. Chickenhov.”

“Great scott! Look at this, Mr. Spritzer! It appears to be . . .”

“Yes, Captain. It’s the infamous Unidentifiable Leftovers Cloud of Death. Life forms in the Cloud are generated spontaneously, behave unpredictably, and are usually deadly. Sliming their enemies is the only known form of communication. It would be illogical for us to survive any contact.”

“Bones!  Do we have a bacteria killer that will purge this thing?”

“Dang it, man! I’m a Doctor, not a garbage man! Get a scrubber and do it yourself!”

“Spritzer and Chickenhov, there appears to be no way around. We’ll have to burn through. Warp speed ahead!”  (Over the com.) “Spitty! We need more power!”

“This is all the juice she’s got, Captain! I’m doin’ all I can!”

“Incoming sludge! Set spatulas on stun! All decks brace for impact!”

*SPLORK*

But you get my point, which is . . . Sheesh – what is my point?  Oh, yes. That a mom’s emotional condition and level of functioning can be gauged and/or assessed by the condition of her refrigerator. As you see here, simply attempting to purge the fridge affected my delicate maternal equilibrium. So, faithful and loving husbands, do your wife a favor:  Check that fridge, check it often, check it thoroughly, and throw out anything evil-looking and anything that speaks (this does not include teenagers foraging in the interior). Don’t forget to wear your protective mask. And do NOT even THINK of eating the dark chocolate hidden in the crisper. EVER.